Archive for Grandmother’s Wisdom
Sacred Women
Posted by: | CommentsLast week I spent 4 days in ceremony with 33 other women. I have never before had the privilege, never had the pleasure, of women coming together for sacred play. We laughed and drummed, cried and comforted, danced a new vision, dreamed a new dream, and deeply reconnected to Honua, PachaMama, Turtle Island, Mother Earth. We were called to the Grandmother’s Summit celebrating Turtle Island during the new moon, the Turtle Moon. Each one of us was called to come even though there was no program, no schedule of events, no description of the time to be spent together. We just knew.
We ranged in age from the 20’s to the 80’s; we covered a broad spectrum of races, cultures, and practices. And we were ONE. There was enough trust, enough acceptance, enough appreciation, and enough safety to be who I truly am without ‘toning it down’. All of us are teachers, healers, channels of the Divine, and dedicated to focusing our energy towards a new dream of the world.
We women, in many other groups like this one, are gathering to support each other, to support ourselves, and to support the world shift to a new consciousness. As we become more and more aware of the role we play in this shift, women are standing hand in hand, heart to heart, in communities bound by love, integrity, joy, sacredness of all that is, and allow the Great Female to emerge anew. With hearts wide open, we are united in our dedication to passing this beautiful Earth on to the next seven generations.
This is the eleventh hour; this is the call; this is what all of you have been waiting for. The Grandmothers are calling and when Grandmother says something in that tone of voice, it brooks no compromise. It is just so.
All of you women who have stood with your feet planted, arms folded or fists on your hips and said: “Not in my home! This will not happen in my home, ever again!” are now joining and in one voice and a million voices simply saying: “No more.”
It is time to roll up your sleeves and do what women do best: Pray for strength, pray for inspiration, join each other, sing the work songs, and just plain clean up this mess! This can be done from wherever you are – in tiny ways and in big ways. Do one thing at a time: stop buying plastic bags; use cloth napkins; buy fair trade and local stuff. Don’t know how? Read some of my other columns and ask me to come teach a class in all sorts of easy ways to slow down buying and throwing away. (Where is ‘away’?)
There is an astonishing array of ways to connect and become part of a new way of being. Find one. You are my family, and I am yours. We can do this if we all stand together. You are needed and you are unique. No one else can do what you do. Come join the the biggest change in the history of humankind! It’ll be a gas!
Old Tools
Posted by: | CommentsUsing ‘tools’ in the broadest sense – maybe anything that extends your hands/body to get something done more easily – what is the age of your oldest tools, specifically the ones that have been in fairly constant use?
This is an interesting question for me, and brings an awareness about my life I haven’t had before. There are tools that I use in my life that are almost as old or older than I am. My Mother’s garlic press is still in use, and the pin that holds it together still slips out if you’re not careful. I have some kitchen spoons that have been stirring things since before I was born – both wooden and metal. I have a pottery bread rising bowl that has three little legs and used to have a bail handle. It was used in the warm ashes to raise bread and I still use it. And my Mother’s pastry blender with a handle that my Dad manufactured when the first handle broke. All still in use.
Outside I still use the asparagus knife, the long handled weeder with the steel digger, forked at the end – that I used as a kid on the farm, digging up burdock! I need to fill the handle and reseat the cap – other than that it is an amazing garden tool. I have been working for my daughter in her landscaping company, using this tool at least two days a week for 7 hours a day for almost three years. It’s still going strong when all the new ones have broken or bent.
I have loppers bought in the late forty’s, a brace and bit and the bits to go with it. And some really fine knives.
There’s a little green stool in the bathroom under the sink. My Dad made it when my older brother needed a stool (1942?). It was used by all of us kids, by my Mom in the kitchen, by my Grandma Armstrong to get in and out of the VW Van and now by my grandchildren. It’s not a thing of beauty, it’s a thing of function. It connects me to my whole life – the little, beat-up, dark green stool.
I even have a willow laundry basket I bought in Vermont in 1966 and I sure wish I’d bought two.
I am totally convinced that buying quality is the best investment you can have. For those things that are used all the time, and will be used by all, get tools that are forever instead of disposable. Your hand and body gets to know a tool and then the good use of it really begins. It’s such a pleasure to use a tool that has been well taken care of and cherished.
I know, some things go obsolete almost before you turn around. That’s not what I’m talking about. I’m talking about the basic tools that only need elbow grease or skill to have them work. I love having that sense of certainty. I know I am an expert with these tools; I’ve had more than 5000 hours with every one of them.
Aprons
Posted by: | CommentsWhen I grew up aprons were made out of chicken feed sacks. This sounds odd and sort of gross until you know that during and after the Second World War these chicken feed sacks were made from one yard of calico. It was a selling point, I’m sure, since every backyard I knew of had a few chickens and a vegetable garden. That company wanted the chicken feed business of millions of women backyard farmers. Women also used these sacks for curtains, little girls dresses, napkins, place mats and pillow covers. The trick was to get enough sacks of feed of one pattern at one time to get the job done. It was a time of careful frugality.
Back to aprons though. Ordinary, every day aprons were once voluminous affairs compared to the stiff straight canvas barbecue aprons we normally see now. These current aprons have one function – keep your clothes clean when you cook. Aprons my Mother and Grandmother wore were for keeping clean and oh so much more. A good apron for every day wear was used as a pot holder to pull a dish out of the oven, wipe tears away, mop a sweaty brow, dry your hands fast when someone came to the door, and hold the freshly gathered eggs or vegetables from a trip through the back yard.
As I added children to my home, I remembered aprons and all the things they could do. It came to me for two reasons: my Mother was slimming down the amount of stuff in her home and handed me a pile to go through; and as I loved to wear skirts I found I was using my skirts for all the functions an apron served – and ruining them! Of course, you might say, that’s what aprons are for! It also meant that I was going against the current fashion of mothers in my neighborhood, hard to do at a young age. Easy for salmon to swim upstream; not so easy for someone who wanted to fit in and didn’t want others to know she grew up on the farm.
We had aprons and I even made some. There were frilly little cocktail aprons made out of starched organdy, clothes pin aprons just to wear to the clothes line and hold the pins, and the ubiquitous barbecue apron. Have you ever tried to dry a little ones tears with any of these? They hurt! I suppose, like buttons on cuffs, we were to use those new paper tissues and not something as unsanitary as an apron corner. Humph! We also knew you had to eat a peck of dirt before you die, and now the farmers market doesn’t even know what a peck is!
Now that I have a passel of Grandchildren, I’m going to make aprons again, as soft and full and useful as I remember. I’m going to get a yard of bright printed calico to hide the stains and have a pocket in it to hide a homemade cookie. I think it is an idea who’s time has come – again!
